Angst, Actually
by SugarFaerie and Jouley
Summary: The bohemians have been captured by the Secret Police. AU story really.. no galileo or scaramouche.. warning for dark, unpleasant angst.. see first chapter for full warnings!
1. Disclaimer

**Title:** Angst, Actually

**Authors:** Sugar Faerie and Jouley

**Fandom:** We Will Rock You

**Rating: **M

**Pairings:** Various.. Madonna/Charlotte, Slash/Beyonce, Big Macca/Seal and so on...

**Disclaimer:** Ben Elton and Queen own the premise of WWRY and most of the characters. Some of them were created by fans (not just us) and as far as I know are free to use.

**Summary:** The Bohemians are captured by the Secret Police and thrown into prison. There, they are tortured and tormented for the sick pleasure of the SP. Can the Bohemians survive this nightmare? Or is it too late for some of them?

**Warning:** This story has GRAPHIC content (including but not limited to rape, torture, violence, sex etc). Perhaps this is too strong for the M catagory.. But i've seen worse on this site. This is just letting you know this story has heavy content, and if that bothers you or your under age, then DON'T READ. :)

**Reviews:** Please. Flames too are fun to laugh at.

Okay, so this isn't actually part of the story.. I (Jouley) just wanted to describe to the readers who each of the characters are and what they look like (on stage or whatnot). If I mention an actor or actress who's played the character, it is for physical reference **ONLY**! It is **NOT** because we are writing those specific people in this story, just their likeness.

Big Macca - (aka John Farnham from the Aus production)

Charlotte - I (jouley is writing this insert so all "i"'s refer to her) base this character off of Mazz Murray from the London production. Physical wise and attitude wise.

Madonna - Based off Amanda Harrison's Madonna in the original london cast - red trousers, big hair etc.

Oz - we decided to use Oz instead of Meatloaf.. She's based off Amanda Harrisons Oz in the Australian cast.

Seal - fan-named character based off Amy Fields bohemian in the original london cast - black chaps, tiny red top, long curly hair.

Mash - fan-named character based off Giorgia Barberi's bohemian in the london cast - short shorts, fuzzy boots, black sequin bra, sleeveless jean jacket, black fluffy hair.

Slash - fan-named character based off Jodie Jacobs bohemian in the london cast - jean corset, black/red trousers, long curly hair to one side.

Beyonce - based off Julie Stark in her Madonna costume (costume was previously named 'beyonce'), black skirt, red belt, fishnets, tight jean top, black hair

Hamster - fan-named based off Nikki Dyer in her london cast bohemian costume - one peice shorts/top outfit.. Colourful.. Black fluffy hair.

Aretha - based off Golda Rousheviel from the original london cast - five spikes in hair, fur lined jacket, skirt with giant mouth/lips on it.

Lulu - not really based on anyone

Troy - fan-named, based on Adam Murray's london bohemian costume - white jacket, black trousers, blue/green hair

Bonnie - fan-named, based on the 'cowgirl' bohemian. No actress in particular

Genesis - fan-named, based on the costume with the rainbow mohawk, long denim loincloth etc

The rest aren't based on anyone but are names from the show (cliff, bob etc).. They aren't used much if at all so it doesn't matter anyway. I just wanted to type up a list of all the fan-named bohemians so you guys have an idea of who we're talking about.

The Secret Police in this story were created by the two of us, so don't use them without our permission. (Fyi - Mash, Hamster, Troy, Bonnie and Genesis were created by me (jouley) too.. But I encourage people to use those names!)

So yeah, now onto the fic itself!


	2. Chapter 1 by SF

Chapter 1 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Madonna_**

I let out a gasp as they hit me. I don't know why they seek me out, why they grab me. Bad luck, maybe.

The policemen laugh as they kick me, as I try to get away. In the background I hear a woman screaming, I can't see who it is, but I'd know that voice anywhere.

Charlotte... I'm so sorry.

The policemen leave me where I am, and I think it's over, but then one of them stops, saying something about seeing if Bohemians bleed.

You idiot. Of course we bleed. Why do you think Cheeky Fairy wears gloves to cover her wrists, and why Oz wears stockings to disguise the scar on her leg. So many of us have scars. They all must have been new and bleeding sometime.

The policeman pulls me to my knees while another one holds me in the headlock so that I can't turn my head. The man in front of me is holding something sharp in his hand, and it stings as he swipes it across my face.

The other one suddenly lets me go, and I fall to the ground again. There's blood staining the floor, and for a moment I wonder who's it is, until I put a hand to my cheek and then I realize where it comes from.

There's shouting in the background now, Charlotte's trying to reach me but is being held back. I want her with me, and at the same time I want to push her away, tell her to stop trying. Because she's picked me up too many times.

Charlotte... I guess I took advantage of you. I was always expecting you to help me, save me, even if I was blind drunk and didn't give you any thanks for it.

I never meant to hurt you, okay?

The policemen take hold of my arms and haul me to my feet. They're taking me out of the cell... I don't know where they're going. They take me down the hall, past all the cells with their walls of glass.

Behind me Charlotte's still shouting, and in the reflection in the glass I see a guard strike her down.

I don't know where these people are taking me, but knowing them it's going to hurt, and I've had enough of pain.

Hurt me again? I won't even care. I've gone numb, you see. No-one can hurt me now.


	3. Chapter 2 by J

Chapter 2 - by Jouley

**_Charlotte_**

I screamed. That's right, Charlotte friggin' Church - the Heartbreak Hotels roughest, toughest, catsuit wearing, rebel warrior - stood there and screamed as the SP viciously sliced open the cheek of my immobilized lover.

It wasn't until Madonna fell to the ground, the blood freely dripping from the gash in her face, that I broke from my paralysis. I didn't get more than a few feet before padded arms grabbed me and yanked me backwards, halting my delayed rescue.

"Madonna!" I cry. Great job Charlotte, show the SP your weakness and what do you expect? They are aware the woman has no knowledge about the dreamer, or the rhapsody he or she is supposed to bring. But they'll hurt her anyway, because they think you do.

The guard holding my position laughs cruelly into my grimy neck, his breath rancid and hot. They are now hauling Madonna to her feet, dragging the pained woman out of the room. I would have struggled harder but the butt of the guards laser baton is being pressed into the small of my back.

"I bet they'll fk her.." The guard's insidious voice informs, causing the blood in my veins to heat up. I already knew the fate of the woman I loved more than my own existence, I just didn't need to hear it coming from the man who's hand is now traveling further and further down my stomach.

"Uh uh.." He taunts, stopping me from pulling away by taking his laser baton and holding it against my throat. Gasping for air, I'm raised onto my toes as his body is taller than mine, and evidently much much stronger.

It's then that I realize the object I still feel pressed into my back, couldn't possibly be his laser weapon. Trying my best to keep the bile from rising, I manage to struggle out of his lock, only to hear a deafening crack as white light explodes behind my eyes.

My body lifelessly crumples to the ground, the result of a blow to the head. As my vision swirls and I feel myself falling deeper and faster into unconsciousness, I can only pray that Madonna isn't watching. I don't want her to see what he is doing to me.

I'm supposed to be the strong one.

I repeat this to myself, as once more, I scream.


	4. Chapter 3 by SF

Chapter 3 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Madonna  
_**  
My heart skips a beat as I see Charlotte hit the ground. I don't want to see... I can't look. I don't want to see her screaming with pain.

I need her to be strong, because if she's not, I'll never be.

The guards haul me along the corridor, not giving me a chance to stop. My face is still bleeding, and I feel the blood roll down my throat and drip onto my shoulder. It's warm, and seems to burn my skin. I didn't realise how deep the cut was.

They lead me to another cell, one at the end of the corridor. The door slides open, and to my horror I see two more policemen standing there, nasty smiles on their faces.

My blood turns to ice as I realise what they're going to do.

A policeman- SP Charlotte always used to call them- gives me a hard push, and I stumble forward against the chest of the tallest man.

"Well, you have brought a pretty one," he says, grabbing me around the shoulders. His arms are strong, and he holds me so tightly I can barely breathe.

His friend next to him pulls my head back roughly, running his hand over my exposed collarbone. "Nice," he murmurs, his hand travelling lower as he pulls me away from his collegue slightly.

I try and use the chance to break from his embrace, but the second man grabs me around the waist, pinning my arms to my sides.

"Naughty..." he breathes into my ear.

I don't know how it happens, but suddenly I'm on the floor, my head ringing as it comes in fast contact with the cold steel. The first policeman's face looms above me, and suddenly his hand reaches out and touches the gash on my cheek.

He laughes cruelly, and suddenly tears the skin even more with his fingers. It bursts apart while I scream in pain and terror, new blood running onto my face from the freshly opened wound. 

He lets some of the blood collected in his hand, then smears it across my mouth. It tastes salty and I splutter with disgust.

He pushes me to the floor even more, and then my nightmare begins.

The other policemen are standing around jeering, waiting their turn.

I want it to stop... oh god, I want it to stop.

Eventually they're finished and they leave me there while they leave the cell laughing. I'm just lying there, broken, crying and vomitting at the same time.

I turn my head slightly, and suddenly have a clear view of the cell opposite me. Beyonce's there, pressed against the glass, her face showing an expression of horror mixed with both pity and disgust.

And then I realise, she must have seen everything.


	5. Chapter 4 by J

Chapter 4 - by Jouley

**_Beyonce and Slash  
_**-----  
We watch.  
Fingers tapping, forehead pressing, mouth agape.  
Madonna is red.  
Her colour no longer consensual.  
Forced on her by dirty hands.  
Unfeeling hands.  
We shudder at the memories, though unsure which are ours.  
And which belong to our friends. "Bey', come away from there, please.." Slash pleaded, walkin up to the cell wall to place her hands on the girls shoulders. She knew one of their friends was in the other room, but didn't have the courage to look up and see who.

"It-It hurts.." Beyonce whimpered as her body was pryed from the glass, her hand subconsciously traveling up to her cheek. "They cut us.. It hurts.." Tears began to trickle down her dirt stained face.

Slash sighed and pulled the malnourished girl into her arms. She still couldn't understand the girls switch to plural possessive nouns, 'us' instead of 'me' and so forth. Though even more disconcerting was the girls apparent need to take other peoples wounds and unpleasant situations and imagine them on herself. 

"You're not cut sweety.." She tried to reassure as she rocked the girl in her arms, both their backs now to the other cell.

"Yes.." Bey tried to reason, but the words were so jumbled in her mind she couldn't put them together coherently. She ran her fingers over her tear stained cheek and then held it in front of her lover. "Blood.." She really did perceive the tears as what she described them as.

Slash felt her heart break at the other girls confusion. This was more than merely a strange coping mechanism to horrific environments. Something was seriously wrong with Beyonce, something, Slash knew, that would likely never go away.

Suddenly there was a noise from the cell adjacent to the girls, as a body was thrown into the glass. Crying out, Beyonce placed her hands to her ears to try and dampen the sound of cruel laughter also coming from the cell.

"Don't look..." Slash whispered, placing her own hands over her lovers eyes, hoping if she stopped the girl from watching, she wouldn't suffer the effects of it later.

Only, with her hands now occupied, there was nothing stopping Slash from watching into the next cell, where Cheeky Fairy lay, struggling to pull herself up.


	6. Chapter 5 by SF

Chapter 5 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Cheeky Fairy  
_**  
"Cheeky?" Hamster's voice is quiet, tentative. She never spoke to me much before now, if fact, she usually avoided me.

Hey, I have that effect on people.

"Wha'?" I say back. After all these years I still can't talk properly.

The cell's cold, and seems to close in on me. It reminds me too much of...

No. I'm not going back there. Not now, not ever.

Hamster shrugs, I know if anything it was just comfort she wanted. I don't answer her, and I think she takes the hint not to approach me.

Sorry, Hamster... I'm not good at looking after people. I know I should be looking after her, as she's younger, but I can't bring myself to. 

Cheeky, the selfish sixteen-year-old brat.

I ignore Hamster, and pull up my right glove again. I haven't done it for so long... I promised I wouldn't.

I hate it when I get like this, but sometimes I see no other way...

My nails rake across my wrist, tearing the flesh as much as the blunt ends can. They barely scratch the surface, but but the famliar pain stays. 

I'm so caught up in my old ritual, that I don't notice the SP man until he's right in front of me.

"Well," he sneers, "a regular little Alice."

Alice? Oh, right. That Alice. Was that meant to be funny?

I shrink away from him, not again, please not again... But then I realise as they turn away from me that it's not me they want, but Hamster.

I get up and try and defend her, as I guess I should. The first guard grabs me and tosses me against the glass while the others laugh as if it's a joke.

"You stay back, little girl!" he shouts. 

I struggle to pull myself up, one hand dragging through my hair while the other scrabbles against the steel floor. My head feels dizzy, and everything I see is a blur.

It's all too familiar. 

I'm Alice and I found my friggin' Wonderland.


	7. Chapter 6 by J

Chapter 6 - by Jouley

**_Blaine - Secret Police  
_**  
I stand back and watch as Geoff and Alec drag the miniscule bohemian to her trembling feet. Christ, I think to myself.. She can't be older than 12!

But it's not my place to question the orders of our commander. The bohemians, all of them, are dangerous criminals intent on destroying Planet Mall and everything Globalsoft stands for.

How could a 12 year old destroy Globalsoft?

I cringe internally as Geoff knocks the wind out of the young girls body, causing her to slump to the floor in crippling pain. I wan't to speak, tell my friends to leave the girl alone. There are plenty other bohemians we could be having fun with.

Soon Geoff is laughing.. Alec has begun tearing the clothes off the sobbing child, revealing her to my non-appreciative eyes. I don't want to look, and will not look. 

Only Alec is now calling my name. What can I do but address my higher up? Glancing quickly at his face, I can see the devil in his eyes. He's smirking at me suggestively, and it's then that i notice one of hands pointed at me. Or more specifically, at a certain part of me.

"You need to do her first Blaine.. You've got the smallest weapon.. Though as tight as she is, i doubt even you'll get very far.."

I don't know what to do or say. I can't lose my job over this. Not over a bohemian. Even if she's only a little girl.

The other two continue to gawk at the girl, now stiff as a plank under their scouring eyes.

No.

I can't do it. I rather lose my pride than take what they want me to take from the poor girl laying infront of me.

"Can't do it Alec.. In a bit of a bad way down there.. if you know what i mean.."

Alec's eyes widen at my statement, then the two burst out laughing at my seemingly personal revelation. They don't know it's a lie, a lie to protect the girl from myself.

I know my lie wont protect her from Geoff or Alec, but perhaps Ill be able to go home tonight to my wife and my own 10 year old daughter, and not feel like a monster.


	8. Chapter 7 by SF

Chapter 7 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Hamster  
_**  
I always wanted to be grown up. Always. I wanted to be like the adults, to be able to act like one of them... there was so much they wouldn't let me do.

I remember Charlotte caught me drinking once, I'd never seen her so angry... I asked her why I wasn't allowed to drink, and she yelled at me, saying "do you want to end up like us?"

I felt so mixed up then. What was so bad about their life? I guess I don't really know all that goes on back home, but still...

Back home. Oh yeah, that's gone now, isn't it?

Here... where are we, really? What are they going to do to us?

I try to ask Cheeky, but she just ignores me. She's been the only person near me since they took Seal away. She was standing in front of me, hiding me from something, and then they grabbed her.. I guess Cheeky wouldn't know what they're going to do to us, either. She always just hangs around, scribbling or spraying stuff on the walls.

I want to ask her again, but I'm it'll be no use... she never paid any attention to me, and I guess that won't start now.

There's banging and screaming everywhere, I look up and I see blood hit the glass of another cell. Who's in there? Are they alright?

Some men- police or guards, I can never tell- come into my cell. One of them says something about a regular little Alice to Cheeky Fairy, then they turn to me.

They grab me, pull me to my feet. Oh god, I'm so afraid...

One of them punches me so hard that I can't breathe, and I hit the floor. I see one of them loom over me... 

Whatever Seal wanted to protect me from, I guess I'm about to find out.


	9. Chapter 8 by SF

Chapter 8 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Celeste  
_**  
You know, we don't really know that much about these people. We know that they're rebels, Bohemians, enemies to everything we stand for.

We. Globalsoft. Globalsoft Secret Police. Current occupation of Celeste Camden, highschool tech genius.

Funny how the world goes, sometimes.

I walk down the corridor, doing my patrol, watching the rebels through the glass. Some are looking at me with hate, others with fear, and some aren't looking at me at all. Some have faces covered in blood, others are contorted in pain.

The boys have been down this corridor. I can see that just by looking in the next cell. There are two women in there, both a bit younger than me. One's got blood crusted on her cheek and neck, even clumping in her wild hair. She's supporting a smaller woman, who's got blood smeared on her bare thighs and staining her torn stockings.

They're pretty. Too pretty. No wonder the boys had 'fun' with them.

They don't know anything about them. I don't know anything about them. We don't know what these two women's motives are, what they think of us, if they have friends, lovers, possibly even children. We don't even know their names.

We don't know anything about the girl in the cell across from them, looking like a demented child's plaything in a ripped tutu. We don't know anything about the people next to her, either.

I continue my walk down the corridor, staring straight ahead. It's no use wondering about who these people are. Most of them will die anyway.

The last cell has a dangerous looking woman in black PVC pacing the room. Something's familiar about her...

A few of my collegues are dragging one of the women from the first cell down the hall, the one in the red pants. They push her into the same cell as the woman in the PVC, and I see her rush to pull the newcomer into an embrace. The blood covered girl is sobbing onto the other's shoulder, and anyone could see they're more than friends.

The black-clad rebel turns her head slightly, and for the first time I see her face on.

Oh my god. She lived next door to me. I thought she died, but here she is, a rebel holding another rebel while she cries her heart out.

And now I know why we're told nothing about these people.

Because it's so much easier to hate people you know nothing about.


	10. Chapter 9 by J

Chapter 9 - by Jouley

**_Big Macca  
_**  
I pull again, harder this time on the chains that bind my wrists and chest against the wall ive been stood against for the past who knows how many days. Too many days, too many sights. They don't hurt me physically, no. No. They just take another peice of little peice of my heart everytime I'm made to watch a beating, or rape.

The last incident was the worst so far. Those bastards got to Hamster. Hamster. The youngest bohemian in my clan. She was only 12 years old, and they still forced themselves on her like animals.

And they call us savages?

I let my body sink as far down the wall as it will go, stopping when the chain catches me under my ribcage and halts my descent. I can hear footsteps approach and hope that they'll leave me be if I feign unconsciousness.

No such luck, for seconds later I hear the sound of the door to my cell opening, and a rough fist slapping my head upward.

I'm being directed to open my eyes, to watch the monitors in front of me, where no doubt another horrific act is about to be committed on one of my friends. A hand slaps me again and this time I do open my eyes, only to stare in horror at the figure on the screen.

It's Seal.


	11. Chapter 10 by SF

Chapter 10 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Seal  
_**  
How many of us have bit the dust? I never thought about it, until now. How many Bohemians died before their time.

I remember when Paul found Cobain lying in the junkyard, bloody and dead as a doorknob. We never did find out who killed her.

Then there's the overdoses, three in total, all young Bohemians who didn't know the stuff they played with had a dangerous side, until it was too late. Oh, and there's a suicide too, a hanging. Slash found the body.

I remember the accident that killed Acca Dacca, too. Madonna's screams still fill my mind whenever I think of it.

The latest one? Oh... Brit. Another killing.

Two murders, three overdoses, one suicide, one accident and a couple of near misses, with a few miscarriges on the side.

Doing great, aren't we? Regular little heroes. Seven deaths and counting.

Wonder how many we'll loose now? There's garanteed to be a few.

Because if we all get out of here alive, it'll be a miracle. And miracles don't happen in real life. This isn't a fairytale, with a happy ending.

Who'll go, I wonder?

The police seem to have taken an interest in me, for some reason. Oh, right. Boss's girlfriend. Torture me to get Big Macca to talk, though what he'd tell them is beyond me.

They put him in solitary from the start, him, Oz and a few others, each in a seperate cell with walls that are metal, not glass. People they think might know something.

Will they survive? Not with their brains intact, they wont. I realise that now. Because they'll tell them nothing, they're too proud for that, even when there's no hope. 

They've got all of us. There's nothing to loose, now. Nothing to loose but each other.


	12. Chapter 11 by J

Chapter 11 - by Jouley

**_Slash and Beyonce_**

Someone broke. Snapped. Revealed something important, vital, something the rest of us were probably unaware they had known.

There is a flurry of active and I watch as secret police constantly dash up and down the glass corridors, weapons in their hands, orders being given. 

The screams haven't stopped, I glance up from the matte of black hair, Beyonce having eventually fallen asleep against my chest. Looking across the room I see a large burly man dragging Hamster and Cheeky out of their cell.

My heart fills with dread for my friends. If the police think they know where the dreamer is, they no longer need to keep us alive.

It was foolish of me to pity them, for moments later our own cell door opens and three men enter, two sporting laser batons. What can I do but pull the girl I love closer into my arms and pray?

Soon Beyonce is ripped from my grasp, the poor girl still slumbers, too exhausted to know what's going on. Too sickly to possibly fight back. But I fight. And it only rewards me with a blow to the head.

As I slowly come to, I can sense the unfamiliar-ness of the room. We are no longer in a glass box, but in a dark white or metal lined room.

My head aches as my eyes try to focus, I can hear raspy breathing coming from opposite me, and slowly I open my eyes to see Beyonce standing there, her eyes hallow yet wide.

Around her neck is looped a strip of thick leather which is also looped over a bar four feet above Beyonce's head.

No.

God no.

Attached to the other end of the leather are the hands of an evil looking man. He notices my shifting and smiles. I hate him more than I've hated anyone in my entire life.

"Look, the dyke's awake. Now she can watch as we squeeze the life out of her poor little girl friend."

"No!" It's then that I realize I'm bound by my wrists into the wall behind me. "Don't hurt her! Please!"

"Oh, we're not going to hurt her.. We're just going to kill her.. It's you we want to hurt." A second man broke in, and I struggle thru the dim light to try and make out the new mans face. Once his features were clear, I began to whimper. It was the same Secret Police I had bitten in a rather sensitive place a few days ago.

Without giving me even another moment to beg, the first man yanks on the leather and I watch in horror as Beyonce is lifted two feet off the ground. By her neck.

"Don't do this, please! Oh my god! Please put her down!" I cry, lunging forward only to fall as the chains around my wrists catch and drag me to the ground.

The man only laughs and pulls the frantically struggling girl higher.

"Don't let her die please! Oh! I'll do anything PLEASE! Please! I'll let each of you fk me, just don't let her die!"

The man still holding the other end of the leather strap laughs, "What makes you think we weren't going to fk you anyway?"

Pulling at my binds with every last ounce of strength, I hear a bone snap and searing pain shoots through my wrist and arm. I don't care that I've just broken my hand, I would rip my arms from my sockets if it meant being able to reach Beyonce.. Being able to save her. 

"NOOOoooooooooo!" I wail, trembling with hatred, fear and pain as I watch Beyonce's body stop struggling.. The momentum she had built up only causing her now limp body to swing back and forth gently. Her face.. Oh god, her face is blue.

Blue had always been Bey's favourite colour.. She said it made her look slim. Not that the girl needed to worry about her weight, having naturally been skinny. I remember all the times I used to tease her about her 'weight problem', and smiled faintly at the images of the girl standing with her hands on bony hips, protesting her obesity. 

But all too suddenly the memories evaporate as reality sets in. The tears being to spill down my cheeks as I realize Beyonce isn't just blue. Beyonce is dead. She's dead. My lover is dead. They killed Beyonce. They killed her. They killed her.

"NOOOoooooo!" My body flies forward, the tiny girl in my arms falling to the floor in a heap at my disturbance. She looks at me with curious yet still sleepful eyes and I stare back at her. Disbelieving.

I watched Beyonce die.

Yet she's laying before me, alive. 

Then it hits me.. It had only been a dream.


	13. Chapter 12 by SF

Chapter 12 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Lulu  
_**  
Blood smells like metal. I never knew that, until now. This whole place reeks of it. It would, since there's so much of the stuff about. Nearly everyone's been beaten, or worse.

Me, I've been lucky. I've only got a black eye and a cut above that. Probably wont last long, though.

There's a scream from further up the corridor, where most of the girls are. There's probably another rape going on. I try and identify who's voice it is, but I can't figure it out.

Cliff's in the cell with me, along with Geo. Bob was in here too, but they put him in solitary when they brought Geo back, after they found out he knew nothing .

Geo's in the corner, mumbling something under his breath. It's not until I go near him that I hear what he's saying; "Hamster, Madonna, Oz, Big Macca, Bob, Prince, Charlotte..." 

He's counting the ones that have been beaten really badly. The ones we don't know if they're alive or not. The ones we don't know if they'll keep them alive.

"Oz is alive," Cliff informs him. "And Madonna. I saw the police put them in another cell. They're hurt pretty bad, but they're alive."

Oz. Stunning woman, but completely out of my league. Too far up the social ladder for me to even dare approach her. She's years older than me, for a start. The same goes for Madonna, I suppose.

At least they're alive.

"The others?" I ask.

"No idea."

Just then something happens outside our cell. Speak of the devil, the police are bringing Oz back to solitary. Why they took her out in the first place is beyond me.

They're bringing her past us now... Oh. Crap. Oz is chalk white, with streaks of red standing out against her skin. She's covered in blood, mainly on her thighs. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened to her.

She was at the top of the ladder, always in the spotlight, always the center of the party, along with the others who are now in solitary.

Maybe it's good to be the forgotten one.


	14. Chapter 13 by J

Chapter 13 - by Jouley

**_Jordan_**

I told them to bring me the pretty one.. The one whose boyfriend was killed in the raid. She had a look about her, proud, stubborn, willful and damn sexy. I wanted her.

I watch as Drake brings her in, her eyes half shut in defiance and most likely the lasting effects of one or more blows to the head. It's a surprise most of them are even still able to walk, what with all the rough housing the boys like to dish out. 

Me? I don't rough house. I aim to inflict pain, and don't joke around about it either. I want this bohemian to myself, so once she's in the cell I send Drake away, much to the mans disappointment. 

Boo Hoo. He can go fk one of the others, because this one is mine.

Hands clasped behind my back, I approach the girl.. Or would woman be a more appropriate term? Her age is hidden behind dried blood and tears. She doesn't make a movement as I approach, obviously already resigned to her fate.

Damn. I would have liked to be the one to break her. I guess I'll just have to settle for a little reckless fun. Though not too reckless, for I'm aware this woman is one of the bohemians kept in solitary, and therefor one that's not too be fatally harmed.

It saddens me, for there were so many things I could do to her, but will have to wait until her usefulness is no more.

Now, standing in front of her, I run my hand along her jaw line, watching as her eyes remain cold and stony, staring into space behind me. Once more I wish she still had the fight left in her. I much prefer the look of a girl who knows her fate, and would do anything from receiving it.

I let my hand travel down her neck, over the mound of one of her breasts and down across her bare stomach. She hardly makes a move, except unconsciously shuddering at my cold fingers on her flesh. When my hands reach her trousers, I notice the button and zipper have been torn, and are only held closed now by a lose ribbon.

Aww. Without hesitation, I pull at the tie, causing the flaps of her shorts to fall open and reveal to me purpling flesh. For the third time I frown at not having gotten to the woman first.

I lead her over towards a table situated in the center of the cell, and without any force, she leans her body over it's edge until her chest presses into it's cold, sticky surface.

I wonder if she knows who's blood she's now covered in. I toy with the idea of telling her, but shrug it off. Mental torture had never been one of my favourite methods.

With the girl now doubled over the table, I begin to pull down her shorts, the thin fabric easily pushing down her clammy backside and down to her knees then ankles.

Now that she's revealed to me, I can feel my own body start to react.. There was always something about a submissive woman, exposed, that sent chills through my body. This woman was no exception. I wanted her, now. 

Reaching to my belt, I pull out my laser baton and carefully switch the power off. As much as I like to inflict pain, accidentally charging the weapon in a situation like this isn't something I wanted to do. Or have to clean up and explain.

As I push the baton against the woman's fleshy mound, I can see the woman start to tense. She hasn't put up a fight yet, and the hope she might start turns me on even more. It's a false hope though, for as I push the impromptu phallus deep into her gut, she falls still, not even making the slightest noise.

Not that it matters, as I can feel the stickiness of blood on the weapon as I pull it back out of her. I hadn't realized I'd pushed it in far enough to cause damage, I was too wound up in my own feelings at the idea of fucking this pretty thing.

It doesn't take long till I find myself grinding my hips into the back of her leg, my hands still pushing and pulling at the baton, not at all trying to get the woman off but only worried now about my own impending pleasure.

It's a bit of sick, twisted irony, but that's what I love about my job.


	15. Chapter 14 by SF

Chapter 14 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Oz  
_**  
I think their laughter was the worst, at the time. The pain I could handle, but their jeering and snide remarks were more torture for me than what they were actually doing to me.

Not that the pain wasn't bad. It was... unbelievable. I tried to tune out, freeze of the pain and the men around me until I could stand it, but eventually I was forced to give in to it.

I run my hand over my bruised thighs, wincing as the movement jerks my torn muscles. They weren't gentle. Pigs.

I remember when it first started... I cried out, and the man above me laughed. "Why, little slut, don't you like that?" he'd whispered into my ear, his hot breath burning me. "Pity your boyfriend's not here to save you..."

I tried to push him off then, my disgust overwhelming me. I was pinned to the floor, so lashed out in the only way I could, biting him in the neck. It was a stupid thing to do, and it probably didn't hurt him very much. Still, he roared with anger and smashed me in the mouth with his fist, causing it to fill with blood so that I choked.

I can still taste it now, both salty and metalic at the same time. No matter how much I try to spit it out, I can still taste it.

The zipper and belt of my shorts broke, so I tied a ribbon from my hair around it. Absently I try and tie it tighter, but I know it won't be any use. Someone will probably undo it.

Brit... I really miss you now. What would you do if you were here? Smash the place up, yeah, that would be your style. Fight the policemen off me, then hold me and tell me it's alright.

But it's not alright. You're gone, and we're here, cooped up in cells, broken things for the SP to play with at their leisure.

I didn't want it... I didn't. I didn't want their hands on me, touching me, I didn't want them seeing parts of me that no-one sees without my permission. That was always my rule. No-one gets me unless I'm in the mood.

I guess rules were meant to be broken, hey?

I lean back against the cell wall, the ice cold metal chilling my heated skin. Outside my cell I can hear voices, loud voices, that don't even attempt to be secret. 

"Give me the pretty one," one of them says. A female voice.

Which one of us do they mean?"

"Which one?" a male voice asks.

There's a pause, then when the woman speaks again there's a trace of spite in her voice. "The one who's boyfriend bit the dust in the raid. The solitary girl." 

That's me. She wants me.

Sure enough, the man's entering my cell and pulling me to my feet. His hand runs over my stomach, stopping only to fiddle with the ribbon around my hips. "Shame..." he murmers, taking his hand away. "Ah well, maybe later."

Later. That would figure.

He drags me down the corridor, and for the first time I see the others. I feel a sharp, stabbing pain in my heart, as I see how many of us have been hurt, shamed, tortured.

I've lost everything I loved, everything I wanted to save. My home, my dream, the one I loved most. 

And as I get led into another room and face my attacker, I don't care what happens to me anymore.


	16. Chapter 15 by SF

Chapter 15 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Jordan and Celeste  
_**  
"What are they doing?" Celeste asked, watching a few secret police of a higher rank sort out the captured rebels under Commander Khashoggi's instructions.

Jordan shrugged carelessly. She wasn't interested in this part of the operations, and she could tell most of her collegues weren't, either. "They're sorting out the ones that might know something," she said with disinterest. "They'll put those in solitary. The others will go in the glass cells. They aren't needed for interrogation."

Celeste nodded in understanding, her eyes still on the Bohemians. "Oh." 

Jordan examined each of the Bohemians visually, ranking them in her mind. Some looked scared, others looked sad, and some looked as if they had no idea what was going on at all.

There was a little blonde that caught her eye, one of the solitaries. Jordan recognised her as being the rebel that had tried to run forward as the idiot back in the raid had died, only to be held back by one of the males. As he fell she had sort of slumped against the man holding her, as if in shock.

His girlfriend, probably.

She was standing with the other solitaries, back straight and arms folded, with not a single glimpse of fear on her face. Proud, defiant and just a little bit haughty. Killer figure, too.

Nice. 

Celeste followed her collegue's gaze, and gave an unconcious shudder. She knew what Jordan would probably do, what that girl was in for. She was young, not older than about twenty-three or so. 

Poor thing, Celeste found herself thinking.

"You going to take her?" she asked Jordan in a low voice. Slight distaste and something that was almost fear flashed across her features in a matter of seconds.

Jordan gave a short, humourless laugh. Celeste was only two years younger than her, and yet she was still so innocent. Jordan bent down to whisper in the other woman's ear. "You know the answer to that," she breathed, playing with a strand of Celeste's smoke-coloured hair. 

Celeste shivered at Jordan's touch. Her gaze once again went to the rebels, to the woman watching the commander sift through her friends. Her eyes were hard, her face pale dispite her fearless expression.

The other SP led the solitaries away, while the boys dragged the others in to the glass cells, throwing them in in twos and threes. Jordan followed the solitaries, a mocking smile playing on her face.

Celeste took a deep breath. She would never dream of saying this to a senior officer, least of all Jordan, but it slipped out anyway. "Don't- don't hurt her too much, please," she said to Jordan's retreating back.

Jordan stopped, and turned to face her. Celeste swallowed. She didn't know how to defend herself, couldn't guess what the other woman would say. Jordan's cruelty was something that both fascinated and appalled her at the same time.

Jordan's smile increased. Well, she thought. She does have a personality after all.


	17. Chapter 16 by J

Chapter 16 - by Jouley

**_Mash  
_**  
Sometimes I wish they had never found out I could fight. Being beaten, or raped by those dirty pigs couldn't be worse than being made to hurt one of my friends.

I remember vaguely the term 'gladiator' from a poster we had salvaged back at the Heartbreak. Despite my lack of weapons, or protective covering, thats what I feel like. Someone who's sole purpose is to survive, and who's only way of doing so is to make sure others don't. 

They haven't had me kill anyone yet, but in the heat of the moment I sometimes wonder if I were capable of completing the act of murder. I might be, and that scares me.

I was told I would be fighting again today, though I had already gathered from the extra helping they had given me the night before. I'd given it to Prince, the once stocky man now reduced to bones from malnutrition. He'd lost his last fight, so at least I know he wouldn't be my opponent today. In his current state, he would be no challenge.

Me, the diminutive Mash, would be too much for him.

Soon the door to our cell opens, and knowing the drill I rise to my feet. This doesn't stop them from grabbing me and roughly pushing me through the door. Sometimes I wonder if they aren't scared of me, knowing what I can do when put into the 'ring'.

As we walk, I wonder how my challenger for the day would be. Not Prince, definitely. And not Seal, as I had fought her last time. That was probably my toughest match, and I'm not too sure she hadn't given in at the end to spare me the pain of losing.

Because if you lose.. Well, let's just say I've only lost once, and don't plan on losing again.

But at the expense of injuring a friend?

I hang my head as I'm led into the room, only to realize there are no other challengers there. As has been custom, the winner enters second, giving the challenger more time to prepare. As I take my place in my corner, one of the higher ups comes over to me and I tense, fearing reprimand for something I hadn't even done yet.

"The rules have changed. You lose, you die.."

I watch in horror as he walks away, unable to bring myself to protest the change. Why would they suddenly change the rules on me? Were they trying to make certain I wouldn't throw the fight? Why? Who were they going to make me fight this time?

As the door opens once more, It all makes sense.

Two large men are dragging a protesting Hamster into the room, the poor girls already bloody and torn clothing hanging from her thin frame. They want me to hurt my adopted daughter.. 

When the girl sees me, she stops struggling. We haven't seen each other since the raid, almost four weeks ago, and part of me feared she had been killed long ago. Though, another part of me wishes she had been, to spare her from what I have to do to her.

I watch as she breaks free from the guards and runs towards me, screaming out my name in her tiny, crackling voice. I have to do it, I know that the guard was serious. If I don't, they really will kill me. When she nears, and stretches her arms out to embrace me, I close my eyes and cry out as my hand lashes out, slapping the girl across the cheek.

When I open my eyes, it's worse than I imagined. The girl had been tossed backwards onto her back, her pasty cheek reddening from the contact. Her eyes have caught mine, she looks as if she has seen a ghost, and maybe she has. But it doesn't stop me from advancing on her and kicking her tiny body further across the room.

"Momma no-o--o.."

I can't help the tears from falling down my cheeks as she cries out for me to stop hitting her. But I can't. Survival. We all need to survive. They won't kill Hamster if she loses. She will survive. She will get past this. It's my own survival at stake, I repeat to myself as I once more slap the girl pinned beneath me.

Even though my heart is already dead, I don't want to die.


	18. Chapter 17 by SF

Chapter 17 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Charlotte  
_**  
The stupid thing about this situation is; I really don't know anything. They can interrogate me as much as they want, torture me as much as they see fit, and I still won't tell them a thing.

Not that they give up easily.

"So, Miss Church," the man in front of me says. "Are you going to talk to us?"

"No," I reply. No sense in lying.

My interrogator's a higher rank of SP, much higher than the guards back at the cells. They're not involved with our treatment, their job is only to get information from us. Unlike the guards, that's also all they're interested in. 

The man sneers. "Please, Miss Church. Don't make me have to hurt you." He raises his baton.

Dispite what he's suggesting, I actually have to laugh at that. Doesn't he have any idea what goes on down there, what we've been through? That what some of us have experienced makes a low-frequency shock seem lame?

The guards behind me have a bit of a giggle at that, too. He glares at them, and they obediently shut up.

There's voices outside the interrogation room, two SP are arguing. "Why did you have to do that? There's no way she'll talk now."

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist..."

"Well, try and resist! You could have killed her!"

"Oh, now that's a bit extreme... I wouldn't have killed her. I know my orders."

The first voice sighs. "Well, obey them! She's in solitary, there's a limit on what you can do to her!"

"I know... it was hard to remember that..."

Oh no, who are they referring to now? My interrogator raises an eyebrow as he realises I'm listening in. "Miss Church? Worried about someone?" 

The SP are still arguing. The first voice is male, the second a spiteful sounding female.

"Okay, spread the word that from now on, the blonde's off limits. As long as she's not too damaged she might say something."

Oz? She won't say anything, no matter what they do to her.

"She won't talk," the female voice says, echoing my thoughts. "She's too stubborn."

"She will."

My interrogator's stepped back, watching me with amusement. I wonder if he's trying to guess what's going through my mind right now. Keep guessing. I won't tell you.

"What about the other girl? Do we need her?" It's the woman again.

"You mean the one in red? Nah, she's free for use, if she's not dead already." 

Madonna... no...

The interrogator smiles at my horrified expression, and leans his hands on the table in front of me.

"So, Miss Church, it seems your friend's in trouble... I assume you're ready to talk."


	19. Chapter 18 by J

Chapter 18 - Jouley

**_Madonna_**

I hadn't even known i was pregnant.. Not that it would have mattered, I realize as i stare at the blood on my hands, on my thighs, on the stone floor.

The guards don't know.. at least the men don't. How could they know that the blood i've spilt isn't from their torment, but my own personal horror.

A horror all too familiar.. I'm no stranger to losing a child.. My poor baby's screams still echo in my ears when I think about the scaffold, and the accident.

I could do nothing then, just like I can do nothing now.

Nothing but weep, and pray Charlotte returns soon. It's selfish of me, I know, to expect her to still be my rock, my safe place. But she is, and I need her. 

As I try to clean myself up, I wonder who the father may have been. Not one of the guards, no.. I must have been farther along than the four or five weeks we've been kept here..

I think about my last sexual partner, and the tears return to my eyes. I've lost more than just a child in this situation. Heh, what a gentle term, situation.. In this genocide..

First Brit.. then my baby.. I can't lose Charlotte.. or I, myself, will be lost.


	20. Chapter 19 by SF

Chapter 19 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Aretha  
_**  
How long have we been here? Four weeks? Five? I've lost count of the days.

We're not in the glass cells anymore, they moved us to the more permanent cells about three weeks ago. It's better, because without the glass I don't feel so watched all the time.

We're still in groups of three, they just shuffle us around ever so often, god knows why. What was once a daily horror of being bashed or raped doesn't occur so often now, now that the guards are loosing interest in us. There isn't a single person who they haven't hurt.

I'm in a cell with Charlotte and Madonna. Cheeky Fairy was in here, but they took her out and put her with Hamster and Seal. I'm worried about her, as she's not well. She had the flu when they captured us, and malnutrition, bad treatment and the constant low temperature turned it into something serious.

Five of us still haven't been taken out of solitary. We don't know if they're still alive or not. 

I lean against the concrete wall, and try and make myself reasonably comfortable. Madonna is in the other corner, leaning against Charlotte while she sleeps. Charlotte's staring into space. 

A noise outside the door jerks me out of what was almost sleep. Two SP enter, and pull me to my feet. "You're going somewhere else," they tell me.

I'm taken down the corridor and shoved in another cell. It's empty except for Hamster. 

She raises her face towards me, and I can see that it's streaked with tears. "Cheeky Fairy died last night," she whispers.

My blood runs cold. "What... who did.." 

Hamster shakes her head. "No-one killed her... Seal was holding her, her fever was so bad... she was coughing, it was like she was coughing her lungs up, and she was all shaky and... well, she closed her eyes, and she was... she just died!"

I sit down on the cold floor to process the information. "What did they do with her?"

Hamster shrugs miserably. "I don't know! They just took her body away... I don't know what they did with it. They took Seal away, too."

I put my arms around her shivering shoulders, thinking about the girl I don't think anyone really knew, who cheated death without understanding it, until one day it caught up with her in a way she hadn't wanted.

There's laughter outside, the SP are getting bored. They're angry and restless, and they're looking for a release.

Cheeky Fairy won't be the last to die.


	21. Chapter 20 by J

Chapter 20 - by Jouley

**_Mash_**

They are changing our cell assignments again.. I can tell by the loud, echoing screams coming from down the stoney hallway. It sounds like Slash.. I had wondered when they were going to try and seperate her and Beyonce.

Soon there's a noise at the door to our cell, and two men enter in a beeline straight for me.

I don't shrink back.. I have been through far worse than anything these two puny guards could dish out. I have, in a sense, grown to their level, the past few weeks.

Why should I fear someone who can so easily take a life, when I have just as easily done so myself?

No.. I won't think about it. I won't think about The King's face moments before the final blow. The look of horror at the realization of her fate. Or was it the realization of what I had become?

After she died, in my cradling and hysterical arms, I swore I would not fight any more. They could kill me before they had me hurt another of my friends. 

But my reservations towards murder didn't at all cover my harming any of the guards.

Still, I don't struggle as they order me to stand. I don't wish to remain in the room they had placed me in after my criminal act.. The occupants of the room know what happened, and they fear me.

Or is it fear mixed with hatred? 

I follow the guards down the hall until we stop outside a new room. As I'm shoved inside, I pray that those inside had not been witness to, or been told of my horrific acts.

Then again, when has anything I've ever wished for, been granted?

Sitting infront of me are Aretha, leant back against the further wall of the cell. In her arms is a sniffling Hamster.

The door slams shut behind me, and I know there is no chance of being re-assigned. 

Aretha looks up at me, her face full of concern and pity. Does she know? Or just assuming I've been through what most of the other girls have been through? Do I dare tell her if she's wrong? 

It's not until Hamster looks up, that I wish they had killed me that day in the fighting ring.

"NOoooo! No, no!" The girl cries, clinging with her little blood stained arms onto Aretha. She is terrified of me.

But I suppose she has a right to be. I did beat her to the point she could have easily died.

I don't expect forgiveness, as I wouldn't forgive myself If i were in her position.

I just wish I didn't have to be in the room with her, listening to her fearful cries.

But again, when do I ever get what I wish for?


	22. Chapter 21 by SF

Chapter 21 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Aretha  
_**  
Mash's shadow darkens my face. Hamster stiffens, which is strange, because I thought she'd be happy at seeing her mother.

I look up, scared at what I'm going to see. Will she be bleeding? Bruised? Worse?

I see her and breathe a sigh of relief. Thin, a bit bruised, but otherwise fine. She looks a lot better than most of the girls.

Something's different about her, though, something about her eyes. My mother always said that eyes are the windows to the soul, and Mash's were... hard. Cruel, almost.

I'm not sure what to think... it could be nothing, or it could be something horrible. Going through what we've been through can change a person. After all, Charlotte's eyes are grim, whereas Madonna's... are empty. Like there's nothing there. 

Mash's face is as hard as her eyes, she was always a bit moody, but nothing like this.

"Cheeky's dead," I say flatly, reasoning that the facts have to be reported.

I expected at least a small reaction, but receive none except a brisk nod. Mash is still standing, hands in fists, fists on hips. I run through the list of names in my mind, wondering if she'll know if some are living.

See, the problem about not being able to see each other anymore is that we don't know what goes on.

I'm about to ask her, when Hamster looks up. "No!" she wails, "Nooo..." She clings to me, and look from Mash to Hamster, then back again.

What on earth happened?

Mash is as pale as my sheet back at the Heartbreak, and I figure it's best not to ask. I'm about to ask her if Seal's still alive, but she beats me to it.

"Is Bob alive?" she asks.

I shake my head. "I don't know. He's in solitary."

She nods in understanding. "Madonna?"

"Yeah, she's alive." 

"Oz?"

"Last I saw her. Is Seal alive?" 

She nods again. "She is."

I try another name. "The King?"

Mash shifts uncomfortably. "I... I'm not sure."

And then suddenly it dawns on me. Why Hamster is suddenly so afraid. Why Mash seems so different. And why I heard screams not too long ago.

"Oh Mash, what have you done?"


	23. Chapter 22 by J

Chapter 22 - by Jouley

**_Seal_**

Why did they seperate them? They didn't have to do it.. Didn't have to take Slash away from Beyonce. The girl is insane, what harm could keeping the two together bring?

I try to help, to hold, to soothe, but my affections are unwanted, something to squirm away from. Beyonce would rather curl onto her hands and knees and rock than be comforted in my arms. 

It shouldn't hurt as much as it does.. Beyonce had always been a sort of child-like persona in the Heartbreak, forever clinging to her girlfriend. But despite the attachment, she had been a social creature. She never shirked away from me, especially when there was no place else to go.

Sighing to myself, I lean forward onto my own hands and knees and crawl forward, placing my cheek on the cement floor opposite the young girls face. She's got her forehead to the ground, so isn't looking at me, but I can tell she's aware of my presense for her rocking quickens.

"Bey.. sweety.. What's wrong?" I try, whispering softly to the disturbed girl. 

She ignores me for a few moments, no indication she even understood what I was saying. As I'm about to give up and go sit back down, she turns her head similar to how i have mine and looks me square in the eyes.

"We hurt.." Her voice is small, confused, barely audible.

"Oh honey, where? Where does it hurt?" I ask, feeling my heart tighten as the worst case scenerio's begin to scroll through my mind.

Bey only continued to rock. "No. Others. Hurt." She looked about to cry, though I knew they would be dry tears. "From us."

I didn't understand her broken speech, but nodded as if I did. "No one is hurt.. I'm not hurt.." Then suddenly I think I understand her meaning. "You didn't hurt me.."

"Others" She replies, turning her head again so her forehead is into the floor. "We hurt others."

Again I'm not sure what she means. Beyonce wasn't a fighter, there was no way they would have ever assumed the girl was capable enough for decent entertainment. Plus, I'm sure I would have seen her, if she had been made to.. 

Then it hits me. Something Slash had told me when I was first put into the cell with them. I had hurt others. Was Beyonce beleiving herself to have done the things I myself had done?

But how would she know? I never told her.. I wouldn't think Slash would have told her.

Could she just know? Is it that obvious, the person I've become?

Without really being aware of it, I had begun to rock myself.. And like Beyonce, cry silent tears.


	24. Chapter 23 by SF

Chapter 23 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Madonna  
_**  
I'm pulled off the brink of sleep as Charlotte stirs. "Meh... don't do that..." I say groggily, not opening my eyes.

"Sorry..." Charlotte murmurs, running her hand over my hair. I settle my head on her shoulder again, and try and think of what I last dreamt. I usually have nightmares, bad ones, but this one was different.

I dreamt we were back at the Heartbreak, like it had been before. There was Geo and Prince making alcohol from potatoes, Aretha singing one of the new songs in the archives, 'Dancing in the Streets' or something like that, we hadn't found more than the first verse and chorus. There was Oz, fast asleep on Brit's lap, him looking slightly annoyed at his lack of sensation in his legs, but still unwilling to move her in case she woke up. They were always so cute together.

"I had a dream," I say to Charlotte.

"Did you?" Her voice is concerned, she knows my usual dreams. How they make me scream in the night.

I nod. "It wasn't a bad one... I dreamt we were... we all were..." I trail off, suddenly unable to continue. We can never go back there. Never. My dream is no more than a memory that visited me in my sleep.

Charlotte hugs me, and once more I try to drift off. I want to see my dream again, the one that real life lost.

I'm woken up by Charlotte stirring again, this time abruptly. "Oz!" she shouts.

I open my eyes, and sure enough, Oz is standing there. They brought her out of solitary, after all this time.

She's much thinner than I remember her, but then again, we all are. She's covered in bruises and cuts, both old and new, and in some places she's still got dried blood smeared on her skin, brown and flaky.

"How are you?" Charlotte asks softly, her initial joy at seeing Oz again subsideing as she sees what a poor state she's in.

Oz shrugs. "Alive," she answers, her voice soft and crackely, like she hasn't used it for a while. I suppose she wouldn't have.

She slides down the wall and huddles in the corner, shivering at the low temperature. There's never any warmth down here.

I go to her and try and give her a hug, but she shrinks away from me. She doesn't want anyone touching her.

"Oz, are you alright?" Charlotte tries instead.

Oz shakes her head, more as if she needs to clear it, absentmindly trying to scrape the blood of her legs with her fingernails. "I'm alive... don't know why. I didn't want to be."

All the fight has left her. It's almost like she has died, in some way.

Oz, what did they do to you?


	25. Chapter 24 by J

Chapter 24 by Jouley

**_Oz_**

How can they stand it.. Touching each other.. contact with another person.. Just watching them makes me want to crawl into a corner and cry.

They wanted me to sleep with them, to huddle with them on the cold stone floor, but i wouldn't respond.. No. Tilt your head and look blank, and the questions eventually stop.

But the pain.. that never stops.

No.

I curl my knees farther into my chest and continue to watch.. both morbidly fascinated and pleasantly repulsed. How can they touch each other like that now? After everything that must have happened to them.

Madonna tried talking to me once.. Opening up about her experiences in the hope it would get me to talk about mine. I didn't talk. Talking prolongs things.. you can make mistakes when you talk. Silence gets you the same thing everytime.. and I like to be prepared.

I still watch though. 

Madonna had been asleep between Charlottes thighs, her back to the older womans chest, both their heads pressed into the wall behind them. That is, until she started crying.

Madonna, that is.

I don't think Charlotte knows how to cry.

I guess she was still asleep, because she didn't move or try to fight off the other womans advances.. I know i would have.

I look down at the double knotted ribbon holding my shorts together and shudder. 

Madonna doesn't resist.. Infact, as Charlotte's hand does whatever it's doing, the girl starts to react, moaning ever so softly.

Something I never thought I'd hear again.. Someone receiving pleasure from sex. And it's not just sexual acts by the police.. I don't think I'd have let Britney touch me anymore, if the boy were to raise from the dead and rescue me.

But I guess thats why Charlotte only does it when the other girl is sleeping. I have never heard Madonna mention it.. to me or to Charlotte.. She probably isn't even aware of the little bit of happiness Charlotte occassionally gives her at night..

My knees curl tighter into my chest as I begin to tear up.

Maybe tomorrow I will sleep next to them.


	26. Chapter 25 by J

Chapter 25 - by Jouley

**_Aretha_**

When they had dragged her in, my immediate thought was that they had skinned her. They left her on her stomach in the middle of the room, and all we could do was stare in horror, watching, waiting to see if she was still alive. 

She was. After a few silent moments, a soft whimpering could be heard from the spread out form before us. I turned to the girls next to me, Seal already had a tormented Beyonce in her arms and seemed somewhat reluctant to even let the younger girl see the body on the floor.

With good reason.

It seemed every square inch of the girls body was covered in blood, some dried, but most still fresh and dark. It didn't even register until I got closer, that the girl was also without any clothing.

"Gen.. " I whisper, my heart tightening as the girls head moved in response to my calling. She tried to turn to look at me, but movement caused more blood to appear, dripping down her neck and shoulder. 

"Oh my word!" I gasped, having reached the girl only to see the cause of her blood loss.

She was carved up like a fucking holiday gourd. My eyes travelled in horror over her neck, down her back, following the deep lines of broken skin. "Gen.. don't move.. oh god, please dont move.."

But the girl must not have been aware enough to understand me, for she kept moving, trying to turn her body to look at me.

I watched in empathic agony as scabs were torn lose and fresh red blood began to mix with the darker, dried variety. Without much hesitation, i placed my hand on the back of the girls neck, grimacing as the blood squished underneath my grasp. My other hand I placed on her lower back, immobilizing her from trying to turn herself, but undoubtably causing her just as much pain.

"Seal.. Oh god, Seal.. Please.. Get some wet rags.. Hurry!" I called over my shoulder. As i listened to the woman behind me frantically searching, I turned attention back to Genesis.. the poor girl still moaning in a soft daze.

"It's okay, Genesis.. You're going to be okay.." I murmer, more to myself than to the girl.

As Seal comes up next to me, I can hear the reaction inside her throat as she first takes a glimpse of the young girls body. "Bastards.. Right bastards.." She says, handing me a damp towel and then looking away.

As I drag the cloth every so carefully over the girls back, there is suddenly a loud scream behind us. Beyonce must have seen.

Seal can't stay with me, she has to go back and tend to the disturbed girl. No doubt she beleives she's been cut hundreds of times herself.

Sighing, I go back to wiping away some of the dried blood off the girls now still body. As I work away the clots and scabs, fresh blood begins to rise.. But I wipe that away too.. and eventually it stems. As long as she remains still, there isn't enough pressure to cause it to rise.

"Oh my word.." I whisper, as something suddenly catches my eye. Standing up, blood soaked rag still in my hands, I gaze down at the girls back.

"It's the heartbreak! Seal.. They carved the heartbreak on her!" At this point I realize i had dropped the rag as my fingers were now covering my mouth in painful rememberance.

Was this some sort of sick joke?

Yet, something else tugged at my consciousness.. How would they have known, and in such detail, the mosiacs of the heartbreak.

Unless..

"Oh god!" 

Unless the person who did it was one of us.


	27. Chapter 26 by SF

Chapter 26 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Madonna_**

You know, in a way I understand why she doesn't want to be touched. That was her defence, her 'you only get me when I want it' attitude. She lived by it, and beware the person who tried to break that. If anyone at the Heartbreak groped her unannounced, she'd knee them in the balls. Prince would call her a snob, and she laughed in his face.

That was Oz's way, controlled and confident, her true feelings always carefully hidden by a facade of light heartedness. I think Brit was the only one who saw her more emotional side, and vice versa. They needed each other, those two.

To have her facade ripped away, to be forced into something she didn't want, must have been torture for her.

I woke up to find her huddled in the corner, shivering with cold. Was it only cold? She wouldn't speak to us.

I tried talking to her, telling her about my experiences in hope that she might talk about hers. It didn't work, she wouldn't say a word. 

I go up to her again. She doesn't seem to take notice of me, and if she does, she doesn't acknowledge my presence.

"Oz?" I say softly. She doesn't even look at me.

My hand brushes her bruised arm accidently, and she recoils as if she's been stung. "Don't do that!" she exclaims, almost with desperation in her voice.

She must have seen my hurt expression, because she turns away from me. "It's not your fault..." She looks back at me, her voice choked. "It's not you, Mads. It's not you." 

I put my arms around her before she can jerk away, because I know she needs it, dispite her abhor to it. It's just a friendly hug, not suggestive or anything, because if it did it would have killed her.

She stiffens and doesn't move, neither away from me, nor towards. But her horrible trembling stops, and I realise that she's let herself relax, just a little bit.

Slowly I let go of her, knowing I can't hold her for too long. I lean against Charlotte and she lets me, as she's done countless times before.

I don't have a carefully structured act, a painted wall to hide my feelings behind, like Charlotte and Oz do. I let everyone see what I felt, what I wanted, and I ended up in trouble so many times. It was because I can't control myself, as Charlotte would constantly remind me.

Oz had her defences ripped away, her pain now there for all to see. I think that's killing her more than anything the SP could dish out.

"Oz is dead," I whisper in Charlotte's ear. As cryptic as my words sound, I know she'll understand me, because Charlotte always does.

"I know," she replies. "She died long ago."


	28. Chapter 27 by SF

Chapter 27 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Cheeky_**

I found my razor. I didn't even know I had it. Seal confiscated the knife I usually used. 

I was frustrated, reduced to using my nails instead, but then I found it, loosly sewn into the elastic of my skirt. The first blade I ever used, the one I had all those years ago when I first came here. Here... there, I mean.

I must have sewn it there for safe keeping. I didn't notice it because I sewed some more elastic over it, and eventually forgot I had.

Until now.

I pull up my glove, wanting it so badly... The pain in my mind's so great, a fear I can't control. This I can control.

The blade pricks my skin, and feel the relief wash over me. Slowly I drag the razor down my arm, watching the blood well up behind it.

My pain drips away like a dark red river.

I don't know why they say it's wrong... It doesn't hurt, it stops it. Well, it does hurt... but that's different.

Have you heard the story of The Little Mermaid? Seal used to read fairytales to Hamster sometimes, when she was younger. I'd listen in occasionally, bored because I don't like fairy stories, but one of them struck me.

Knives. The Little Mermaid danced on knives.

Lets just say it didn't seem like punishment to me.

The blood drips onto the floor as the door opens.

"Chuck her in here," a voice says. "There's only one in here... Won't be any trouble when she wakes up."

I jump as a body hits the floor. I recognise it.

Genesis. She just lies there, on her stomach, her head turned slightly towards me. 

I touch her shoulder. She doesn't wake up. I call her name, as best I can. She doesn't wake up. Her eyes are firmly shut, but she's still breathing. They must have knocked her out, guessing by the massive bruise on her forehead.

I hesitate, the give her a gentle poke with the razor, to see if that will wake her. It doesn't. I cut a bit further, and she still doesn't move.

My blade is bloody. So is the place where I cut. I lean foreward, intrigued that I could do this to her.

I cut a bit further. 

Swiftly my blade does it's work, carving out a picture while I guide it. Genesis doesn't move, and I can't help giggling, because in a way, she's missing out on all this.

Her blood stains my hands, turning them red. Satisfied that it's completed, I sit back to admire my handywork.

The Heartbreak. My home, the only place I felt safe. Now drawn in blood.

Then, my breath nearly stops. Genesis is stirring.

Will I get in trouble?

I don't have time to find out, because the door swings open again. 

The guard in the doorway looks from me, to Genesis, to the blood on the floor. "Holy sht!" he curses, looking slightly disgusted.

He sees me, the blood on my hands, and the razor I'm still holding. "Good god..." he breathes. "You little witch..." He calls back to his friends. "Mates, check it out! They're carving up their own now!"

They swear, laugh, look at me almost in admiration. Genesis is taken away, along with my savior, the razorblade.

And I'm left here, with Genesis' blood.

The blood that I let fall.


	29. Chapter 28 by SF

Chapter 28 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Alec  
_**  
You know, if you're going to be a member of the secret police, don't study medicine before hand. It gives you bad habits. I'm a good example.

The rebel leader... several cuts, two of them serious, bruising, possible broken leg.

Injuries. I count them. Even when I inflict them myself.

Even when we tortured that little girl, I found myself tallying up the damage we'd done as we left her. We did a lot. It's a wonder she didn't die.

The blonde Drake's taking back to her cell. Cuts, severe bruising, head injury and most likely internal damage as well, judging by the way she can't walk. Drake's practically dragging her.

Blaine's leading another girl down the corridor, another blonde. She's got a few bruises, but the most obvious damage is to her wrists. Sliced open with the precision of a surgeon. Now that she inflicted on herself.

My collegues take another woman out, who I'm pretty sure was in solitary earlier. Obviously she didn't know anything.

Bruising, torn muscles, couple of cuts. Not too bad, considering what some of the others have been through.

Not that that wasn't about to change.

She's a pretty one, certainly. Dark skin, dark hair, intelligent eyes. I've noticed her before. She glares as they lead her past me. "You hurt Hamster," she shouts.

"The little one? Yeah, I did." No harm in inflicting a little mental anguish.

She struggles against her captors, hissing like an angry cat. "You bastard!" she shouts again, her voice increasing in volume. "I could kill you! If it wasn't for these morons holding me I would!" 

Aiden, who's holding her right arm, punches her hard in the face. Another bruise for the tally. Is it just me, or did the other captor, Celeste, just frown at Aiden?

The woman is still fighting them, and I realise she's one of the few who still do. The others all seem to have given up. But she hasn't stopped.

Aiden sighs, and turns to me. "Want her? She deserves it, little bitch."

The woman stuggles harder. Behind the next cell door, I hear another rebel voice cry out, almost imploringly, "Aretha, just give up, it's no use... if you don't, they'll hurt you more!"

Aiden laughs and hisses in the woman's ear. "See, she's got the right idea..."

This woman fascinates me. How she could hang on for so long, when even the other solitary girl stopped fighting us. Would I be the one to break her? Could I be?

I tell Aiden that I'll take her, and decide to investigate. If what we normally dish out won't break her, then what will? In a sick way, I'm dying to find out.


	30. Chapter 29 by J

Chapter 29 - by Jouley

**_Slash_**

When the doors to the cell opened, I turned, my heart beating rapidly as I prayed for the arrival of my girlfriend. I hadn't seen Beyonce in over a week, and part of me felt dead at the loss.

To my dismay, the body that the guards began to toss into the cell wasn't my longed for lover. It wasn't even female..

"Troy!" I shout, the name sounding wierd on my lips. I hadn't seen the boy since the raid.. Infact, I hadn't seen any of the guys since they'd captured us.

And truthfully, I hadn't wanted to.

Only, as I stare at the writhing figure before me, the fear and intimidation dies down, only to be replaced by pity. I can see he's been hurt just as bad as the girls. Just as bad as me.

I turn to look at Bonnie, wondering what she's thinking. The girl looks ashen, apparently not as over her fear of men as I am now. I try to reassure her with a look, but she's not even turned to me, her eyes still locked on the boy.

Sighing, I turn and begin to crawl towards the figure.. "Troy..?" I whisper this time, stopping next to his trembling body. "It's okay.. You're safe for now.." I try to assure him, but he doesn't seem to register my presense.

After a few moments of silence, he turns his head to stare up at me.. The skin around his eyes is tinted purple, though obviously not from impact with anything. "Sleep.." He whimpers at me, his body still trembling and coiled into itself.

Blinking in confusion, I tilt my head and place a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't shrink back, just continues to look pleadingly at me. "If you want to.." I didn't know what else to say to him.

"No! NO!" He suddenly cries, jerking away from me and rolling a few feet until he hits the wall. "I can't! No!"

Startled at his outburst, I shrink away myself, afraid he would suddenly snap and try to hurt me. It's a crazy thing to think, about someone I used to consider a close friend. But I can't help it.. I've been conditioned. "Why, Troy?" I finally ask, still keeping myself a reasonable distance from the lad.

The boy begins to wail, draggin his curled fingers up and down the cement floor in anguish. "They'll hurt her.." He cries, and it's then that I notice the blood appearing from wounds on his hands.

"Troy, stop it! You're hurting yourself!" I hadn't even registered his previous comment, to wound up in the all too familiar site of blood on the ground.

"Can't sleep!" Was his response, his hands continueing to claw at the rough ground.

"Why, Troy! Why can't you sleep?" I shout at him, infuriated that he was acting this way. I could hear Bonnie crying behind me, already set over the edge by the boys presense. I knew I would be next if he didn't stop acting this way.

"They'll Kill Her!" 

My fear catches in my throat, blocked by the words that no longer can form. He can't sleep because he's afraid someone will die. Oh god! My mind begins to reel at the unimaginable thought.. This is something new.. A means of torture I hadn't even known existed. 

They fixed it so that the boy would torture himself, for fear of harming another.

Whimpering along with him, I close my eyes and pray that it won't get any worse.


	31. Chapter 30 by SF

Chapter 30 - by Sugar Faerie

**_Seal  
_**  
Hamster whimpers in her sleep. I think it's the first time she's slept in a while. Poor thing... I can't believe what they did to her.

They brought her to me, after... it was finished. It's a stroke of luck that they put her with me, and it's the only good luck we've had so far.

I wonder what they did to Cheeky Fairy? As far as I know they left her back in our original cell...

If they did, that would really send her off the rails. She hates being alone, in an inclosed space. And she's sick, as well. She had a fever when we came here, and I don't think being here made it any better.

Hamster stirs, and she prods me lightly. "Seal? Can you tell me a story?"

A little laugh escapes from my mouth. Hamster hasn't wanted a story in a while, not since she was very young. She always came to me for stories. Mash always said she wasn't good at this sort of thing.

I put my arm around the little girl and start on a story, a fairytale. She should have at least a little bit of happiness, now when happiness is impossible.

I start on The Little Mermaid, one of my favourites, but it's too sad and too painful.

We've had enough pain to last a lifetime.

I start telling Cinderella instead, but at that moment the cell door opens.

It's the guards, and they've got Cheeky.

She looks like a ghost from a cheap cybergame. Her clothes are torn in places I'm pretty sure they weren't torn before, her face is deathly pale her eyes are strangely glassy. But the most horrible thing is the blood staining her long gloves.

The guards shove her in and she collapses, coughing and spluttering, muttering something under her breath. The guards laugh and turn away, and as they close the door I distinctly hear someone say something about the little girl not lasting long.

I go up to her and touch her gently, then snatch my hand back. Her skin is on fire. I put my hand to her forehead, and almost recieve a third degree burn.

Cheeky claws at the floor with one hand, the other waving in the air slightly, as if she's fighting some invisible enemy.

"No..." she whispers. "Mummy... don'... please! I ain'... I don'... I don' wan' to go there!"

She looks up at me, and I suddenly realise she has no idea who I am. 

"Cheeky?" I say softly, putting my arms around her. Her fevered body burns softly against my skin. "It's alright, it's me, Seal..."

Cheeky shudders, still raving under her breath. Behind me, Hamster lets out a choked sob.

"It's fine, " I tell her, even though I know it's not. "It's just the fever... it's making her see things..."

Cheeky coughs, and to my horror I see a bubble of blood burst at the corner of her mouth.

No... how could this happen? There's no way she would have deteriorated so fast... There's something else behind this, I can tell.

"Cheeky!" I cry, trying desperatly to get some reason out of her. "What did they do to you?"

Thank god, Cheeky seems to have heard me. "They... sayin', tha' one... Don' know wha'. Sayin', sick already... try... if it'll work.."

Try what? Oh god... They didn't... make her sick?

"Cheeky! Did they give you an injection, or something?"

She nods, blood dripping freely from her mouth now as she coughs. "Yea... 'urts. Don' wan'... didn' wan'... don' wan' them to 'urt... me... I wan'... tha's wha' I wan'." 

She speaking complete nonsense, but it's making sense to me now. They injected an illness into her... to see if it would work? On whom?

On us?

Cheeky's little bloodstained hand grabs onto my arm; she's speaking again. "Didn' mean... I didn' mean to... Gen... 'urt... I didn'!"

With all her fevered raging, I don't know what to believe and what not. All I can do is play along. "Who, sweetie? Who's hurt?"

Cheeky's body spasms as she coughs, she's finding it hard to breathe. "Gen... I'm sorry..."

She breaks off into even more violent coughing, and I know Cheeky won't make it to tomorrow. Hamster's crying, terrified at what she's seeing.

Cheeky lets out a final cough, then suddenly seems to relax. Her mouth releases a choked breath of air, and I know it's the end.

I close her eyes.

Cheeky Fairy is dead.

The guards come in and carry her out. Once again, I overhear the same cold voice I heard earlier. "Experiment... successful."


End file.
